Cedar Sweep Black swan

She had covered distance quick, already plopped down by the edge of a quick-moving stream, washing off her bounty.

She didn't look up as he followed, albeit, slowly, her attention remained focused on the purging of filth, including the dirt which now caked the underside of her nails, and stained the ivory white of her forepaws.

Eek! It was cold as she slipped them under, freezing, really, but the water did its work washing away the mud. As soon as she could, she was quick to pull them back and press them to the fur of her underbelly, a shiver rolling down her spine and clicking of her teeth against one-another. She looks down to her collection, meager pickings, though the season dictated that.

Didn't frustrate her any less.

Well this is a pathetic haul. Did you see anything else on your way? She casts a look over her shoulder, unmoving from her languid state, her legs kicked out from under her.

She wasn't hopeful, in two facets, one, that he would give her an answer at all, and two, that there was anything more to find out here.

Winter was a merciless killer. she found herself inspired and loathed to it all the same.